


Juice and Consequences

by LordYellowtail



Series: Her Silicon Soul [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Episode AU: s03e16 The Offspring, Gen, Juice of Destiny, Section 31
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordYellowtail/pseuds/LordYellowtail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The echoself Guinan left in the Nexus grants her a unique awareness of what should be, and she knows better than to attempt to interfere in the natural course of history, unless she’s trying to fix something someone else already broke.</p><p>In an infinite number of universes, she stands by and does nothing the last time Lal Soong walks out of Ten Forward, just before the fateful meeting with Admiral Anthony Haftel and the chain of events that will lead to her untimely death.</p><p>In this universe, in a moment of weary anger and refusal to accept that the girl she’s grown so attached to has no future, she doesn’t just sit back and listen.</p><p>The pebble shifts, and the avalanche begins. Let the galaxy tremble.</p><p>Season 3 AU, beginning during “The Offspring.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lal's Time of Dyeing

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, "dyeing" is an actual word describing the process of coloring something, not a typo. It's also a terrible pun, and for that I'm sorry.* 
> 
> In the _Star Trek: Generations_ novelization, it is revealed that Guinan’s unique ability to sense divergences in the timeline is due to the echo of herself remaining in the Nexus. I’ve called this an echoself in-story.
> 
> See the end for full notes. I'd really appreciate your feedback. Enjoy, and thanks for reading.
> 
> *I'm not sorry.

_“I want that android out of here.”_

_“Now Admiral, you’ve been to one or two bars in your time.”_

_“Have her report to me immediately.”_

Admiral Anthony Haftel and Guinan, “The Offspring”

 

_2366 Earth C.E., U.S.S. Enterprise, N.C.C. 1701-D..._

 

Guinan stared at the retreating admiral as he stormed from Ten Forward, and it took a surprisingly large amount of her self-control not to toss an Andorian spikemellon at the back of his head. _Could always say it was a muscle spasm._ The man’s contempt for Data and Lal as sapient lifeforms was about as subtle as her best hat. He either had the social skills of a grubworm--unlikely given the amount of political maneuvering required to reach his rank--or he was simply too arrogant to care what anybody thought.

_They must do something to the replicator patterns in flag officer quarters. More than four pips on your collar in Starfleet and you end up some kind of deranged._ Guinan bit back a scowl.

She could feel the battle of wills reaching its crescendo. Normally, she wouldn’t have worried. Picard was a singularly indomitable human, and had gathered to him a crew representing the best several species had to offer, of the kind she hadn’t had the pleasure to see in a century or so, and Data was one of the lynchpins that held the whole thing together. Whatever the mission, the _Enterprise_ succeeded, pulling victory from the brink of disaster with a frequency she would have considered absurdly implausible had she not been around to witness it herself. The humans called it _synergy_ , but it was something more, something rarer, something humans lacked the perception to even sense, let alone name, and as a listener it was her honor to watch it in action.

But the tug of war she was witnessing now had nothing to do with the _Enterprise_ , and everything to do with Lal. She was the rope, and all of Guinan’s instincts told her the snapping point was fast approaching. Moreover, the echo of herself left in the Nexus had begun whispering to her with increasing urgency.

A pivotal moment in the timeline was approaching and every time the El-Aurian looked at Lal she had the sense the android was crucial to what happened next. Whatever it was, it would happen _soon,_ and there would be no going back. And given what she had seen of Haftel’s … obsession—Picard’s precarious position in the chain of command, and Data’s naive belief that he could talk things out—all Guinan’s instincts told her this was going to end horribly.

Like all El-Aurians who touched the Nexus and returned to normal spacetime, she had long ago promised not to use her special awareness to willfully alter history, unless she sensed an alteration of the timeline that had to be set right. Much to her chagrin, no matter how much she concentrated, she could sense no aberrations. Whatever was brewing was supposed to happen, and she couldn’t interfere.

Guinan smirked lightly. _At least not directly._ She glanced quickly around Ten Forward, watching from across the room as Data quietly informed Lal the admiral wished to meet with her. She caught Picard’s stormy gaze out of the corner of her eye, and smiled.He was reaching his limit. It wouldn’t be long before he lost patience with Haftel. For the briefest of moments, she considered leaving it alone—once Picard had finally had enough, Haftel wouldn’t have a chance. Then she saw Lal reach for her father’s hand and fold it in her own.

“...Guinan, are you alright?” Picard’s voice, soft yet sharp with frustration, cut into her awareness, and she almost turned to look at him, but hesitated for just a moment, even as her Nexus shadow shrilled to _look away_ , to let history take its course. So she was staring straight at Lal when the android’s—when the _girl’s_ —lips curled into the faintest of smiles. It only lasted for a split second, but Guinan felt her breath catch in her throat. She had seen Data fake smiles dozens, if not hundreds of times. Seen Lal do the same.

Never had either of their forced grins reached their eyes, until now.

A low buzz built in the back of her head, her echoself’s awareness of the timeline warning her … something terrible—or at least, terribly important, it was hard to tell—was supposed to happen.But every other instinct said Lal needed to be protected. Picard sighed—though it came out more like a growl—and turned, following after the admiral. _Oh, to hell with it. If I’d wanted to be the perfect little El-Aurian, I’d still be listening to my father. Data, I’m going to buy you some time. I think. I hope you know what to do with it._ The buzzing intensified, her echoself all but screaming for her to _stop right now, dammit, are you out of your mind_? _!_ She ignored it. Data and Lal were almost to the point she would need to intercept them. Data was moving quite slowly, especially for an android.

She knelt briefly and grabbed the flask she needed and a glass, just as Data came close enough that she wouldn’t have to shout to get his attention. “Lal,” she said pleasantly, “could you come here a moment, please?”

Lal tilted her head and blinked, looking for all the galaxy like a curious little girl. And wasn’t that what she was, when all the politics and other bull was swept under the table? Guinan certainly had never seen her father look so wide eyed and innocent. Even when he was confused, he still radiated the intelligence and thoughtfulness she expected of the Second Officer of the Federation flagship.

That Haftel couldn’t tell the difference between a grown, capable (if emotionally stunted) adult and a curious, naive child who still depended on her father for almost everything did not speak well of the man’s intelligence. Or ability to see more than two inches in front of his face. She suppressed a sigh.

“Guinan, Admiral Haftel has asked to meet with me immediately. I don’t believe I have a moment,” Lal said in her soft, lilting, oddly halting voice, face open and guileless as ever. Guinan briefly wondered if Data had once spoken with such unusual cadence and grown out of it, or if it was one of Lal’s unique traits that would stay with her forever. As a listener, she favored the latter.

“You’ll get there soon enough,” the bartender said, setting the flask and glass down gently. Qwuamba Juice stained like nothing else, but then again that was kind of the point. “But Admiral’s orders or not, you need to sign out.” Well, not really. Lal _was_ on shift for another two hours, yes, but Guinan could’ve just as easily let her take an extra-long break. The increasing buzzing in the back of her head made her think that was exactly what she was _supposed_ to do. _You just better not wreck the universe when I have my back turned, kid._

“Indeed,” Data said, expression and voice as emotionless as ever, though Guinan would be damned if she didn’t think there was more going on under that mask than even he realized. “I am sure Admiral Haftel will understand you have certain responsibilities as an employee of Ten Forward. In any event Captain Picard will have matters he wishes to discuss with him before your arrival.”

Guinan blinked. Data had just suggested Picard would try, in his own way, to stall. He couldn’t know that for sure, and was probably just hoping he would, which meant he realized how quickly this was getting out of control. _You have less faith in Starfleet protocols to get you out of this than I thought. Good._

“Of course, Father,” Lal said. “I’m not exactly eager to meet with Admiral Haftel alone. From what I’ve observed, he seems … aggressive and unfriendly. I doubt his stated motives.”

Data tilted his head and opened his mouth, but no sound came forth. After a moment, he said simply, “Captain Picard will be present. You will not be alone.”

Lal nodded, her eyes turning to the padd Guinan slid across the bar. As she picked it up and began to scan it—far more slowly than she was capable of—Guinan swallowed and made her move. She uncorked the viscous liquor, some of her actual alcoholic stock, and began to pour. _This tar is_ expensive _, kid. Don’t make me regret this._ Shifting on her feet and twisting her torso roughly, she dove for the floor in a fine imitation of slipping, just as Lal signed the padd. As she fell she slung the bottle in a wide arc, suppressing a smile when Lal ended up all but drenched. Before she could get a good look at the girl’s reaction, Data’s chest filled her vision as he lunged across the bar and wrapped a rock-solid arm around her waist, pulling her back to her feet. Still, she could hear Lal sputtering, and grinned into Data’s surprisingly well-molded chest. _At least you don’t have a sense of taste, kid.That stuff’s absolutely vile._

“Guinan!” Lal almost shouted. “Are you undamaged?” She blinked, almost frowned, mechanically shook her head ever-so-slightly. “Are you alright?”

She made a show of brushing herself off. “Never better.Thank you, Data. However, _you_ , Lal, look like something my razorbeast might’ve coughed up.”

Lal looked down at herself and cocked her head. The viscous, purplish-black liquid had thoroughly coated her burgundy blouse and the top of her lavender dress. Guinan saw with some satisfaction that she even managed to splash the girl’s chin a bit, the liquid flowing down her neck in thick, slow rivulets. Lal poked at the mess experimentally.“I’ve been … stained.”

Data blinked, and looked at Guinan for a long moment. For an instant, she wondered if he’d realized she faked the whole thing. “Sorry, Lal.I obviously need to clean the floor behind the bar. Better change before you meet the admiral, don’t you think, Data?” She handed Lal a towel, and couldn’t stop her grin this time when Lal’s attempt to clean her face only made the mess worse. Apparently bioplast sheeting stained easily—far more easily than flesh, apparently.Data noticed what was happening and gently stopped her before her entire face was purple. Lal blinked at him and tilted her head, before catching sight of herself in a mirror behind the bar. She stared, and Guinan almost thought her lips twitched briefly down before settling in their usual flat line.

Data nodded. “I shall inform Captain Picard you will meet with the Admiral as soon as possible, but it is probably best you not arrive dripping and … discolored. Let us return to our quarters.” He nodded at Guinan and returned her towel. “Guinan.”

“Goodbye, Data.”

As they walked out Lal looked over her shoulder. “I will see you on my next shift, Guinan. I’m eager to continue our lessons.”

_Somehow, I don’t think you’ll get the chance._ The El-Aurian nodded. “Me too, kid.” _Good luck, you two.You’re on your own._ She knelt under her bar again, looking for painkillers.That buzz was starting to give her a real headache.


	2. With Fresh Juice, You Will Find Surprise Pulpy Bits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his meeting with Admiral Haftel postponed by Lal’s mishap with the juice, Data has time to check the terminal in his quarters for new experiment results. He discovers a great wonder, and a terrible danger.
> 
> The pebbles have shifted, and the boulders have begun to roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See first chapter for full author's notes. Sorry for the delay in posting this. I had it written and ended up redoing it a bit. I like it a lot better now.
> 
> Enjoy. The substantial diversion that Guinan set in motion actually begins to take shape in this chapter.

As thesonic pulses from the shower unit began echoing through their quarters, Data rapidly finished tapping in the override commands at his console that would allow Lal to access the shower’s most powerful settings without a Starfleet crew-member present to override the safety protocols. Had he not known she was just as incapable of experiencing emotions as he, Data would have been certain his daughter was actually annoyed at needing his help to properly cleanse herself. In any case, she was already beginning to surpass him in the imitation of (subtle) facial expressions of impatience and perhaps even—he consulted his internal cross-species facial/emotive recognition database to be certain—yes, embarrassment.

_Most curious._ Without question, Lal was developing mentally (and in particularly socially) far quicker than he had upon his initial activation by Starfleet personnel. While most agreeable, her progress was also quite unexpected, and left open the possibility of other surprises, not all of them as benign. Yet, he had learned from Captain Picard and Geordi and other beings he greatly respected not to, as the human expression went, _borrow trouble_ , so he chose not to think of the negative possibilities without further evidence they were something he needed to worry about. _The crew is quite used to my presence and behaviorial patterns. While some of the children had difficulty interacting with Lal, most of the adults aboard accept her and treat her similarly to myself. Fortunately, most appear to understand her present childlike nature and have adjusted their behavior accordingly. She is more fully accepted here than I was when first activated, not subject to the considerable social isolation and exclusion I first experienced. Could this inclusiveness be the key to her accelerated development?_ For the briefest instant, he wondered how he himself might have developed differently, and what problems and strife he might have avoided, had he been woken in an environment as welcoming as the _Enterprise_. While he could not feel regret or jealousy—and intellectually recognized it was unworthy of a father to feel such things towards his child—there was yet a sense of an opportunity missed because Starfleet had been so slow to treat him as a person.

Knowledge that Lal would most likely avoid such problems and have many opportunities while young that he did not enjoy until he first met Captain Picard on the _Portia_ after years of service in Starfleet was most agreeable. He had made the right decision in choosing to raise Lal aboard the _Enterprise._

Data turned his attention back to his workstation and began to scroll through the several dozen messages left in his queue. He was falling quite behind schedule. Since he normally worked far ahead, this was not yet a major concern, but it was still an unusual circumstance. Admiral Haftel was proving quite distracting, and illogical. Data was no master of human behavior, but he did recognize when someone was interpreting the facts not in order to find truth, but to fit an idea or goal already in mind—Haftel wanted Lal, and was using every trick of words, random opportunity, and command privilege to try to seize her.

Data would not and could not allow that. Starfleet would not take his child while he still functioned. But his options for movement within established regulations, protocol, and the Starfleet Uniform Code of Justice were extremely limited. At the moment, given that Admiral Haftel seemed to be completely unwilling to alter his opinion in any meaningful way, Data recognized that he and Captain Picard were merely engaging in the delaying practice humans called stalling.Evidence and past experience indicated it would not be long before Haftel issued a direct order to turn Lal over, and at that point Data would have no choice unless Captain Picard intervened. No choice, unless he chose to disobey direct orders, the consequences of which he could not begin to predict with any degree of accuracy.

_Intervention is likely. The Captain believes strongly in our sapience._ Data did not possess the ability to be stunned, touched, or awed _per se_ , but the vigor with which Captain Picard had fought Bruce Maddox to have his sapience and personal liberties recognized, and indeed his very life preserved, had left an enormous and indelible impression. He could not say they were friends to the degree that Geordi was his friend, as the Captain maintained noticeable distance from even the senior staff, but Data knew Picard’s loyalty was absolute, and he freely and unequivocally returned it. And it appeared that loyalty extended to Lal, for which Data was extremely grateful.He had faith the Captain would once again help him prevail, though the very existence of this dispute with Starfleet was … highly troubling.He had thought once his sapience was confirmed this scenario would be impossible.If he had known Research and Development would attempt to seize Lal, he would have seriously reconsidered creating her—at least while a member of Starfleet. But then again, the knowledge that Lal would be raised on the _Enterprise_ , among not only friends and allies but the finest example of Federation ideals, had been a significant factor in deciding to reproduce at this point in time. _A most unwelcome paradox._

Data found himself incapable of contemplating a scenario where he chose not to create Lal at all. She so enriched his life by her mere presence, so easily showed him new aspects of many things he had grown to take for granted through the lenses of eager wonder and frank innocence she viewed the universe, that when he thought back on the time before her activation, he could not help thinking the time of his life incomplete and even difficult. He knew his uniqueness burdened him, but only now, no longer alone, could he appreciate just how it shaped everything that came before.

(He never contemplated any scenario in which something happened to Lal now, after her activation. Every time his consciousness even remotely approached the idea, all at once his autonomous memory subroutines pulled his awareness towards the overriding sensation of emptiness and incompleteness that had filled his awareness for six weeks, three days, twelve hours, nineteen minutes, and fifty-seven seconds after Tasha’s funeral. Several times the sensation had nearly consumed his awareness fully, and it had taken considerable effort of will to turn it aside. He did not need Counsellor Troi to tell him that if anything should happen to Lal the empty feeling would resurge with a force he doubted he could subdue.

Natasha Yar had been his intimate and close friend, but in the final calculation, his life did not revolve around her. And yet, the longer Lal lived, the more he realized he made not a single decision without considering how it would affect her development, safety, and satisfaction with her existence. Even without emotions, he knew he had come to prioritize her needs and desires over his own. And he accepted this readily: the idea of helping her discover the path she desired and seeing her reach her potential and create a life for herself among those who she could consider family, as he had, pleased him more than contemplation of his own personal development goals ever had.

Data read that good parents tend to put their children before themselves in all things. Fascinating that he had begun to do this without even trying, as though it was a natural consequence of the parent-child bond merely existing, even for androids. Truly, Lal had taught him more about himself in a few weeks by simply being present than he had learned in decades of introspection.

As Data considered all this, he was also engaged in answering several queries from the exobiology department head about increasing the universal translator’s efficiency in communicating with the Horta, who generally still required a telepathic intermediary to converse efficiently; beginning to review and simulate the possible effects of EPS conduit rerouting on Decks Four and Thirteen to increase available power to the shuttle bay force field systems; preparing an educational briefing for Wesley Crusher detailing the responsibilities and benefits of serving as a starship operations officer; devising several new educational modules for Lal as well as a number of developmental entertainment options, for even he recognized she didn’t need to study and work all the time; and collating the latest department efficiency reports for analysis and presentation at the next senior staff meeting, among several dozen other tasks.

As he scrolled through the queue, his eyes fell on a particular message that made him forget most of these subroutines—or rather, shift them further into the background of his consciousness until they required his attention. The preliminary automated analysis of the latest daily scans of Lal’s neural net was complete. Every day at 0400 hours they met in his lab so he could scan her positronic matrix to chart its development. _Ah. Most pleasing._ It occurred to him as he opened the file that had Guinan not spilled that viscous juice on Lal—on purpose, for reasons Data could not definitively ascertain, though there was a 93.547 percent possibility she was trying to delay the Admiral’s plans—he would not have had a chance to review the latest results for at least 7.43 hours. Data opened the summary.

Forty seconds later, he tilted his head in intrigue and not-insignificant concern. _Fascinating and … potentially dangerous. How is this possi—no, that is irrelevant right now._ He tapped the display several times in rapid succession, fingers moving too quickly for human eyes to track, zooming in on a specific area of circuitry in his daughter’s brain. _The pattern is indeed apparent. Strange I did not recognize it before._ Twenty-four hours ago, the circuits were not present, but now she was generating new pathways at a geometric rate. Given that Lal expected to meet Admiral Haftel in twenty minutes (Data made a note to thank the Captain in person for suggesting a delay upon learning of Lal’s juice incident), he did not have a great deal of time to investigate this phenomenon and determine how to proceed. _Most unfortunate._ “Computer, access all previous scans of Lal’s positronic matrix, focusing on the indicated subregion. Record changes from one scan to the next and present animation of progressive circuit alteration. Time lapse factor 3000.”

_“Working.”_ Several seconds passed. _“Operation complete. Displaying sequence.”_

Data watched, entranced, as new pathways unlike any in his own matrix came into existence. Their arrangement and development were too systematic to be random, but up until 0200 hours ago had been too subtle to form a pattern he could identify as anything other than sub-molecular variances. _The Admiral’s so-called aberrations. He is mistaken. These pathways are not present in my own neural net, but I have seen them before._ Even as his fingers began moving once again over his console, he began running an internal query against an encrypted file in his second protected memory core. He had to be certain.It would take several seconds for the query to complete. Enough time to explore further.

(He barely noticed when nearly every other task currently drawing on his processors shifted to the lowest priority, and the least of his awareness.)

“Computer,” Data began, aware of the sonic shower deactivating with a hiss too faint for humans to detect; Lal would be out soon. “Scan the latest set of Lal’s maintenance subroutine logs, level zero, for any reference to indicated sector of neural net.”

_“Match found.Auto-repair program Alpha Four-Two triggered at 0150 hours, ship standard time.Estimated time until completion: ninety-six-point-eight-five-seven hours, mark.”_

Data raised an eyebrow, his concern shifting even more of his discretionary processing resources to the mystery. Program Alpha Four-Two’s primary purpose was to repair damaged, missing, or incomplete neural net pathway formations.The idea that something was amiss in Lal’s neural net, or worse, that her auto-repair systems had become mis-calibrated and were working against her, was … extremely unsettling.“Display intended result of Alpha Four-Two execution according to logs,” he commanded, speaking with increased haste.

The computer presented a three dimensional circuit diagram just as his own internal query completed and thrust its results into the primary thread of his consciousness.

Data blinked.The simulated result of the auto repair system’s work was nearly identical to the subnet in Lore’s matrix that provided emotional awareness, with an 89.532 percent degree of similarity. _Lal is … learning to feel?_ This time he couldn’t stop the question: “How is this possible?”

Fortunately, Lal did not hear him and suddenly appear. He was not prepared to explain this to her yet.

_He_ could not feel, but the confusion, curiosity, and a nearly overwhelming satisfaction all flooded his neural net. Were he human, he was certain he would be experiencing elation. That he felt nothing left him pondering his own adequacy as a father, not for the first time. But he pushed it away; Lal did not have time for him to dwell on his own shortcomings.

_“I will never know love,”_ she had said once, with obvious distress he had assumed to be part of her vocal intonation simulation protocols. Had he been wrong? Was at least part of her remorse unfeigned? If she had truly surpassed his own abilities to such a great degree, she would come closer to being human—to being able to fully empathize with her fellow beings—than he ever would. He found he wanted that for for her very much. Now that he knew she had the potential, the last thing he wanted was for her to be subject to his own apparently impassable limitations.

His attention was drawn back to the three dimensional scans of her developing emotional subnet—unless he was very much mistaken, it appeared highly unstable. _Unsurprising, given the scale of the modifications. A great many of Lal’s higher functions are routed through this region of her matrix. This may present a safety risk._ Data began running a series of simulations, cross-referencing records Lore’s positronic net activity as his brother experienced several emotions, attempting to simulate how Lal’s matrix would respond to such stimuli.

Data briefly wondered what Lore would think if he knew the hours he spent allowing Data to run diagnostics on his positronic brain’s emotional awareness subnet on their first meeting—all part of Lore’s attempt to ingratiate himself to Data and the _Enterprise_ crew before betraying them—would later help ensure the health of his niece. _Better, for the foreseeable future, if Lore never finds out about Lal._ He could not feel fear, but Data resolved in that moment that Lal must be kept from Lore at all costs. Otherwise … he suddenly redirected his thoughts, unwilling to even consider the possibilities.

For dozens of emotive stimuli patterns, there was no output—as Data suspected, Lal’s positronic net was too underdeveloped to process them in a meaningful way, for now. So far he had only tried the patterns for positive emotions, but he recalled Counsellor Troi once telling him negative emotions could have more powerful effects, at least in the short term, and began to simulate fear.

In the simulation, the half-formed subnet destabilized and sent the entire matrix into cascade failure 4.2 seconds later.

Data stared at the simulation for several seconds, suspending almost every non-essential subroutine in his neural net as his priorities abruptly shifted. He did not know enough about the present phenomenon to try to stop it. Moreover, he had no right to interfere in such a way with her natural development, nor did he want to deny her what he could never have. _Still, I must ensure her survival._ He had to learn more.

Footsteps behind him caught his attention, and he turned to see Lal stepping out of the bathroom, wearing a maroon skirt and sleeveless yellow blouse Counsellor Troi had helped her pick out when the three of them were assembling her wardrobe. All evidence of the bioplast discoloration around her chin and neck was gone.“Father, how do I look?”

Data tilted his head, deciding then and there not to mention any of his discoveries to her until he had more information. It would not do to alarm her—if she was yet capable of alarm. To do so might even be … deadly. “You have done an excellent job of choosing a coordinated outfit. You look,” _aesthetically pleasing_ , “very nice.”

She tilted her head forward slightly, obviously pleased, gaze emotionless as his own. “Thank you. Since gaining a working knowledge of aesthetics, color coordination has become easier. My meeting with Admiral Haftel is in eighteen minutes, seventeen seconds. Shouldn’t I leave now?”

Data silently marveled at her casual use of a contraction, and, after carefully examining the consequences and finding them worth the risk—Lal merited _any_ risk now—made his decision. “No.That meeting has been postponed … indefinitely.” _It is not lying if I am the one doing the postponing._ No one would rush him while he tried to figure out what was going on and what to do, and he would certainly not allow Lal out of his sight—or anywhere near Admiral Anthony Haftel—until he could ensure of her safety. “Since Guinan has already dismissed you for today, might I suggest entertaining yourself in our quarters? I am unfortunately on duty and cannot … play … with you.”

She nodded, eyes blinking in the rhythm of the fibonacci sequence they shared. “I understand, Father. Doctor Selar told me about a Vulcan puzzle game called _kal-toh_ today. It sounded very challenging, and you’ve mentioned I need to further develop my problem solving skills and hand-eye coordination. May I replicate a set, please?”

Data nodded, affecting a small half-smile he judged a sufficient approximation of approval and enocuragement. He was very pleased, as always, by her eagerness to strengthen her abilities, and her politeness improved daily under Guinan’s guidance. _Most excellent. My research indicates that children learn better when lessons are presented with an aspect of entertainment._ “Of course.”

Once she had settled into a chair with her puzzle and an instruction padd and could no longer see what he was doing, Data turned back to his console and began to run further simulations, a hypothesis already forming. _These test results will be insufficient.In order to make a decision, I must know Admiral Haftel’s true intentions … and orders. I am quite certain he is lying, or at the very least not telling the entire truth, about his objectives and the list of his authority. I have dealt with obfuscating superior officers before, and he is far less subtle—and more arrogant—than most. Perhaps as a member of Starfleet Research and Development he has not had occasion to properly develop his subterfuge skills? Based on current data,”_ he thought, “ _there is only a 0.531 percent chance he will be forthcoming. Even asking may well ... tip my hand … and force him to accelerate his schedule. Unacceptable._

Data observed Lal for a moment as she prodded experimentally at the _kal-toh_ set, as he had seen very young Vulcan children do, and turned back to his simulations.

It only took another 0.23 seconds for him to decide to penetrate the Admiral’s personal database if his hypothesis about Lal’s mental stability proved correct. If she was truly as fragile as he suspected, he would need to know Starfleet’s exact intentions, and he had no reason to believe Admiral Haftel would be totally forthcoming. If anything, evidence suggested the opposite. If the Admiral’s orders were as Data postulated, certain … extreme measures … would become necessary.

As the simulations continued to run and his theory appeared more sound with every passing nanosecond, Data reflected that feelings would make the course of action he was contemplating should extreme measures be necessary far more difficult. Without emotions, the matter was clear. He brought Lal into existence and in doing so took responsibility for her every need and want. If anything put her in danger, it was his duty to come to her defense, without hesitation. He would see her develop healthily and to her full potential, and perhaps even with the prospect for happiness, for love, he was forever denied. Had he been human, emotional attachment to his friends—the family he had built for himself here—might have clouded the issue with conflicting loyalties. But he was not human. It was purely a matter of logic. Though he had not intended it, or even realized it until perhaps just now, his child had become the center of his life the moment she first activated. At the same time, he was the center of hers. She had no other family and depended on him for everything, and he realized he could not contemplate a life wherein she ceased to exist. Someday, his daughter would be able to survive and flourish without him, and he would strive for that day, but that time had not yet come.

And until then, if anything threatened her, Data would deal with it with impunity. Even if _anything_ turned out to be Starfleet itself.

**Author's Note:**

> So, here we go with the first chapter of the first fic in a potential series spanning from canon 2366 to a very AU 2381 and possibly beyond. I've been toying with this plot bunny for at least 5 years--the idea of what would happen and just how far the canon Star Trek universe would go off course if Lal wasn't literally scared to death in her intro episode. Turns out, she's quite the butterfly.
> 
> I had to tweak Anthony Haftel's motives just a bit for this to work, but I feel its still plausibly in character for him.
> 
> This story is pretty much done save an epilogue set in 2371 I'm still working on. If it proves popular I'll try to visit it from time to time. I have a LOT of ideas for this universe.


End file.
